Meeting Mary-Sue
by BeseechBedlam
Summary: Mary-Sues are idealized characters who are too perfect to be even vaguely realistic; they often act as a proxy that authors use to insert themselves into a story. We've all seen it done, and perhaps we've done it ourselves. This is the makings of a story about an obnoxious Mary-Sue who enters the small town of Riverton, only to be trapped by her schizophrenic alter-ego.


"**Hey Alex, did you know the California Condor is being threatened by the lead left in animal carcasses?! How awful is that, right? It makes me so sad that such a magnificent creature could ever- Oh! Speaking of magnificent creatures, look! It's Brittany! Man, she's pretty. And so nice too! She talked to me yesterday, dude. She said like, six words. Six words! Can you believe it? But if what Leah says is true then she doesn't like me and she never will and… Oh Alex. You don't understand, do you?"**

Say another word, Hellerman, and I swear to Weywot that I will kick your skinny arse to Monday. **"Yeah. Wow. Cool. Brit's totally into you. And yeah, no Bug, I'm just a mere peon whilst you are the prince of the revolution." **I can't believe that he doesn't realize I reuse the same, standardized response every day. When will he realize that I don't give two shits about his freaking Condors? Or his misconceived romance with Brittany? Hell, it's not "misconceived"; it just doesn't exist! Oh wait, oh no, no, no. Here we go. He's talking again.

"…**And May bought me a model Condor, and it's spectacular and her name is Tiffany. After the shop and the book. You know the one, right? Right. Well, Tiffany's not a *California* Condor she's…"**

Okay, I know I swore to Weywot, the Native American Eagle God, that I'd kick his arse… But while Bug might be small, I'm *smaller*. Yeah, fuck it. What's a celestial turkey-god going to do to me, anyway? Hang on a sec, what's that I hear? The sanctified sound of relative silence? Bug's gone quiet. Can it be true? Halle-fucking-lujah, praised be the Native American deities! But why is he looking at me like that…? **"Uh, Bug? What's up, pal? You look kinda constipated in the facial region, y'know?" **

"**Alex, I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it. You've got bird shit on your jacket."**

Oh man. Oh man. I just insulted the Jesus bird. That can't be a coincidence… **"Fuck you, Weywot! Fuck yoouuu!" **

"**NO! Don't even *try* to clean it off! Don't you know that getting pooped upon is good luck? Yeah, seriously, it's said that in post-pooping hours your luck can-"**

"**Bug. Listen to me closely. *There is nothing lucky about being shitted on by a motherfucking pigeon. You just get shit on you.* And don't use the word "poop", "pooped", "post-pooping" or any variation thereof, because frankly it makes me uncomfortable. Like I'm an octogenarian dragging you off to my garage. Please and thank you." **Holy shit, I need get myself to a shrink or something. And out of this jacket. Yeah, that's an idea. But who'd be stupid enough to take a jacket with shit on it on a day that's already getting warm?

"…**the Yurok Tribe has these Condors that they nursed back to health, isn't that sweet? Because they need their feathers for tribal dances and thingies like that. It'd be great to be a California Condor. I wish I was a California Condor, Alex!" **

Perfect. **"Mate, I can't turn you into a giant, death-eating bird, but I can do the next best thing." **I know he's obnoxious as all hell and about as mature as bubble-gum, but he's also insanely gullible. For which I am, admittedly, grateful. Besides, I kinda like the kid. Sometimes.

"**You can turn me into a *miniature,* death-eating bird?"**

Oh goodness, look at his eyes. They're so hopeful. Like he's a puppy balancing a treat on its nose. **"No, no, no, better than that; I'll give you the bird crap jacket!"**

"**Oh my gosh, Alex, really?! You are amazing. You are beautiful. You are god. Thank you so much! I owe you one!"**

"**Any time, buddy. Any time." **Fuck me and my generosity. I should be canonized; Saint Alex D. Dunkelman, bestower of bird's bodily fluids and assassin of chicken Jesus. Now *that* has a nice, orthodox Catholic ring to it. Still, I don't trust outside anymore; vengeance could come from the sky at any moment. **"C'mon, Adam, let's get inside where we'll be safe." **

"**Safe from what?"**

"**More bird shit raining down from Weywot's arse." **Wait… That's exactly the kind of thing that gives Bug wet dreams. God damn, I'm sick of this; I'll just go to class on my own and leave Adam to stare up at the sky.

Geography. I can't stand geography. Of all the subjects they struggle to teach at this witless school, geography has got to be the worst. No sane teacher should ever force their sixteen-year-old students to role-play as the states of America, but our teacher was evidently missing most of his marbles, so that's what we were doing. It's annoying that he associates me with illicit drugs though- why else would he tell me to be Colorado? Goddamn stereotypes in this school. I wonder if I could sue for defamation of degradation or-

"**Colorado! You're looking rather lonely over there. Come keep Alaska company and expose her citizens to the political impact of your new-found marijuana industry!" **

I hate this teacher's voice. It's like this grating squawk that sometimes crops up in my nightmares, no joke. Who am I kidding- I hate this school in general. Where's Alaska, anyway? Oh. There. Oh. How come I've never met her before? And why is she bounding towards me like a cross between a rhinoceros and a rabbit?

"**Hello, Alex Dunkelman. My name is Mary-Sue, named so because I am the Mary-Sue that has invaded your fandom. "**

And they say *I'm* Colorado! This girl must be tripping *so hard* right now. What even are fandoms anyway? **"Uh, hi, it's nice to meet you and, um, I was-"**

"**WAIT! WAIT. Wait." **

Honestly, it doesn't take a neurologist to know she's on something; how did they even let her onto school grounds this baked? I'd better do what she says though; I don't want her to be all hysterical, because then people would start pointing fingers at me.

"**Alex, just bear with me for a moment. I'm going to have to change to a third person POV, and it might just tickle a little bit, alright?"**

Alex squeaked out a giggle, feeling the tickling sensation his new acquaintance had just referred to. Slightly embarrassed, he cleared his throat then stared at Mary-Sue, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. "Much better!" She cried, clasping her hands. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, that's right, I'm trying to walk the delicate line between being one of those overbearing, obnoxious Mary Sues of a mopey, pathetic Sympathy Sue. At the moment, it seems as though I'm leaning towards the former, don't you think?" with this cryptic question, she stepped over to the teacher's desk, cleared it with a sweep of her arm and sat cross-legged upon it. Blinking tentatively, Colorado/Alex nodded, the circumstances slowly creeping up on him- but not as slowly as they would on Bug; he's kindof a simpleton.

"Holy crap!" Alex exclaimed through his Eastern New Jersey accent. "You're the reason I was so uncharacteristically awful to Hellerman this morning, am I right?" Beaming with pride, Mary-Sue raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Guilty as charged."

"And there are people watching this?" his eyes whipped around the room, which was now empty. The author bit her lip.

"They don't watch, they read, but hey, here's hoping."

"What happens if I break the fourth wall?"

"I actually don't know…" She replied breathlessly, intrigued by the idea. "Try it."

"Why me?"

"Because when I interact with the audience, it's just a regular author's note. A character has to do it for it to be anything extraordinary." Still, Alex hesitated. "I promise that nothing bad will happen to you." Mary-Sue vowed, eyes glistening because, well, that's what eyes do. He took a deep breath and then Alex glanced up at you from behind the glass of your machine and winked, mischievous laugh lines spreading across his face as a low laugh bubbled from his lips.

"I can't believe it worked…" he breathed, turning away from the screen to face Mary-Sue affably.

"It worked!" she chirruped luminously, uncrossing her legs and prancing across the room to hug Alex. (C'mon, guys; that's obviously all she wants. Insipid bitch. I hate her already.)

But their celebrations were premature; there's no time to describe the sexual tension because at that moment, not just the building, but the entire world began to quiver, shake and rumble. Alex wrenched himself away from Mary-Sue.

"You promised nothing bad would happen!" he accused, eyeing her reproachfully.

"I'm not doing this, I swear, Alex, you've got to-" she hollered over the migraine-inducing noise, but she was cut off as the sound escalated to blaring proportions. It got louder and louder until the vibrations seemed to be pulled taunt and everything was silent. "Well fuck."


End file.
